


The Immune System That Wasn't

by Louffox



Category: Jacksepticeye (RPF), Markiplier (RPF), youtube - Fandom
Genre: Cute, Established Relationship, Jack is really thoughtful, M/M, Mark is really ill (again!), Sickfic, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 18:55:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4030906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louffox/pseuds/Louffox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark really gets sick too often. It's ridiculous. Luckily, his boyfriend is made of cuteness and caringness. Jack, you thoughtful sweet Irish bastard, you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Immune System That Wasn't

**Author's Note:**

> Saw a Septiplier prompts post on Tumblr (http://imadethisforthereblogs.tumblr.com/post/120075919618/septiplier-fluffy-prompts), and I couldn't resist this specific one. I love sickfics. They're my bread and butter. It's kind of awful. And then... this just sort of... happened. I'm Septiplier trash and I have no self-control.

“Your immune system sucks arse.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Mark groaned, resting his head on the counter. He felt like someone had loaded his head full of sharp chunks of heavy gravel, and had packed his brains in his sinuses for safekeeping. His ears throbbed, and the throbbing heat stretched all the way down the sides of his neck and into his throat. And his skin felt raw and bruised and sensitive all over.

“You were just sick last month.”

“Mmmm.”

“And now you’re sick again?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Are you nauseous or anything like that?” he asked, looking a little wary.

“No. Just feel like I died, like, a year ago, and someone just dug me up and microwaved me this morning.”

“Sore throat? Stuffed up?”

“Yeah. Not just my nose- it’s like my whole head. And I’ve got body aches like you wouldn’t believe,” he mumbled.

“Why did you get up, then? Toots, you look like absolute hell,” Jack said with concern, going over and resting the back of his hand against Mark’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“Gotta record.”

Jack crossed his arms, and Mark swallowed painfully. He knew that look.

“Like hell you are.”

“But I-,”

“No butts! I wanna see your butt back in bed, sharpish!” Jack commanded, taking his hand and pulling him up. Mark resisted a little, but he was so weak that Jack didn’t even notice.

“What about my channel?” Mark mumbled. “I gotta-,”

“You gotta sleep, man, that’s what you gotta do. I’m gonna bring you back some scrambled eggs and iced coffee, for your fever and headache. And I know you’ve got some happy wheels videos recorded as backup, I’ll post one of those for you.” A little light seemed to come on behind his eyes. “And… lemme see your phone, I’ll post to twitter for you.”

“Sick selfie?” Mark asked, letting out a little laugh that turned into a cough and a wince.

“Sick selfie it is!” Jack forcibly restrained himself from going too much over volume.

Mark grimaced and Jack twisted to press a closed-eyed kiss to Mark’s cheek, and took the selfie. He looked at it and smiled- there was Mark, in all his bedheaded glory, looking pained but trying to smile, eyes bright with fever. And him kissing him.

“I’m a mess,” Mark said, but it was almost happily.

“You’re adorable as fuck. I shouldn’t post this- it’s unfair for someone to be so damn attractive, fresh out of bed and sick,” Jack said, standing up and typing away on Mark’s phone.

“All yours, dear,” Mark said sleepily.

“Go back to sleep, toots, I’ll wake you with breakfast and iced coffee. You want cheese on those eggs?”

“Mmmmyeah. Thanks.”

Jack dipped to press a kiss to his forehead, and went to the kitchen, still typing on Mark’s phone.

He made scrambled eggs and iced coffee (decaf, so he could sleep), and gave him some advil to help bring the fever down and help with his discomfort. He kept shifting and waking up, his whole body aching.

He woke up that evening, groggy and hot, and kicked his blankets off. Jack hurried in at the sound, but Mark smiled at him. “Just hot. Sorry.”

“Oh, alright. How’s the sickie feeling?”

“A little more human. The aches are going away slowly, I think, and it’s just turning into a sort of head cold thing. I keep going from cold to hot to cold to hot. I’ll be cold again here in ten minutes,” he said, wrinkling his nose.

“Do you want a shower now, while you’re hot? A cool shower might help. Help you feel a little more human, too, always makes me feel better when I’m sick,” Jack suggested.

“I’ll try anything,” Mark said. Jack helped him up and fussed over him, getting clean boxers and sweat pants and a shirt for him, laying out a towel and doing everything sponge bathing Mark. He eventually let Mark close the door and shower.

When Mark had climbed back into bed, feeling refreshed but starting to get cold again, Jack peered in.

“Okay, what’s up?” Mark asked suspiciously.

“What?”

“You’ve got that grin. You’re up to something.”

“No. Nope. Nuh-uh, not up to nothin,” Jack said cheerfully. “I’ve got something here for dinner, if you’re up to it.”

“I’m getting a little hungry, yeah.” He couldn’t feel much in his torso but achy pain, but he had the sensation of emptiness in his stomach, and he knew he needed to eat to keep his strength up. “Why, what is it? 5 million hots?”

“No,” Jack laughed. “Just a sec.”

He returned with an adorably cliche tray, with a glass of water, a peeled clementine, a row of saltines, and-

“I didn’t know I had chicken noodle soup,” Mark said, brows furrowing.

“You didn’t.”

“Then…?”

Jack’s grin widened. “Mamaplier says get better soon.”

“What?”

“When I borrowed your phone, I texted her and gave her my number and asked her to call. We had a nice chat, and she gave me her chicken noodle soup recipe. But you didn’t have half the stuff, and it’s best if it simmers for a long time, and I didn’t want to leave you here alone, so I called the Cyndago boys and asked if they’d pick up a few things for me. I paid them back, don’t worry- and they said feel better soon too, I think they instagrammed themselves shopping for Mamaplier soup- and… well, yeah.”

Mark breathed deeply over the bowl. He couldn’t smell much, with his sinuses being so thoroughly locked up, but he could barely detect-

“Oh, man, this really is Mamaplier soup,” Mark exclaimed, grabbing a cracker and dipping it in. “C’mere, you fucking sweet dork, I need to kiss you.”

“Er- not on the, uh, lips-,”

“Yeah, I know! Some thanks that’d be, getting you sick too.” Jack came over and Mark kissed his forehead firmly. “You’re amazing. I knew there was some reason I kept you around.”

“Yeah, right, for my cooking,” Jack snorted.

“Honestly, though. This is so thoughtful. I can’t believe you did all of this.”

“It’s what a good boyfriend would do,” Jack declared.

“Or, y’know… what a _boss_ would do.”

Mark laughed and dug in.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I just really can't find pet names that I like- babe and sweetie and darling all sound so artificial. I love the idea of Jack calling Mark 'toots'. I don't think we've ever heard Jack say toots. But call it creative license, and let it go!
> 
> If anyone has any other prompt ideas, lemme know! I'm on a huge Septiplier surge right now and I'm just writing like a crazy, and I need ideas!


End file.
